Open Poetry #1 |
Janice |
Janus New Member
since 1999-07-17
Posts 7 |
-Don't say I am the truth like you're a virus and you spread: the truth is, viruses recur and are rampant but never last: the plague, they worsen, they keep you sick and a bed, expose you to the mortal terrors of the night: shadow cum real & smoke made claws- they hunt you but until you feel that tightening round the neck you don't see them, see they're real & all intent to scoop you round & nestle under scales, muscle, & black. Is your neck sore, Janice? do you quiver under the wind? menaced by sweet-fringed trees? do you live obsessed by that poisionous threat that turns you alien? -Alien I am & alien I have been I titter when you twitter, when you see me in my sacrificial silk, seducing the earnest young: we harvest, prepare the feast from birth - I am your old friend. |
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